Stephanie In LesterLand
by Harmne
Summary: Companion story to Magdalync's "Boys Behaving Badly" ch4. One-shot short, temporary insanity! Complete.


Disclaimer: Characters property of JE and borrowed without permission. They will be returned only slightly bent.

_A/N: This story is a one-shot short, a companion piece to Magdalync's __**Boys Behaving Badly**__ story, Chapter 4. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it – it's hilarious! Also, I wrote this before the outbreak of the Swine Flu – hopefully the MM only have the garden variety…_

~*~*~

Mother Nature dragged Steph from a deep sleep with an increasingly urgent call. Her bladder was going to explode if she didn't get up soon, but she was having difficulty prying her eyes open. Throwing the covers back, her hand came into unexpected contact with the sharp corner of a nightstand.

What the heck? She didn't have a nightstand on that side of the bed.

Peeling one eye open, she peered over and saw not only a nightstand, but the big black gun lying on top of it.

_Ugnh_, she thought. _Not my bed. Where am I?_

Didn't matter right now. Right now all that mattered was the dim glow of a bathroom doorway across the room, illuminated from within by a nightlight. Pee first, figure out where she was second.

Her balance felt off as she made the dash from the bed, tripping over a pair of jeans and a giant tennis shoe on the way. She felt the wall inside the door for a light switch and flipped it on – then jumped back with a shriek when she caught sight of a naked man. What the hell was Lester doing running around in here naked?

Then several things registered. The naked man was reflected in a large mirror over the bathroom vanity. And Lester was standing in the doorway with one hand over his heart and his eyes bugged out…just like she was. Feeling suddenly lightheaded she gathered her courage and looked down…

_Oh my God…_

Big feet. Hairy legs. And a fully-hard willy doing it's best to point at the ceiling.

_This can't be happening_, she thought. _This isn't possible_.

She held her hands out – they definitely weren't her hands. She shuffled closer to the mirror and peered at the face. It was Lester's face, and he looked as sick as she felt. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was standing straight up. She rubbed her face with both hands, feeling the stubble on her cheeks with resignation.

Another twinge from her bladder reminded her that, regardless of whose body it was, it had an immediate need. She looked at the toilet and back down at the morning wood. Okay, how did you aim one of these things? Could she bend it down? Would Lester kill her if she broke it?

That brought another question to mind. Where was Lester? Was he in HER body? She very much doubted HE would have any reservations at all about touching her body, and that thought took away any squeamishness she might have felt about mishandling Lester's boy bits. She had to go, she couldn't wait any more.

It wasn't as hard as she thought to point it in the right direction. But it wasn't cooperating, and after a couple of unsuccessful tries she gave up and sat down on the toilet, awkwardly pushing the stiff appendage down between her legs, and finally managed to get the flow going.

The phone rang then, of course, but it quit before Steph was done. Lester must have drunk a gallon or two of water before he went to sleep. Or she had. She wasn't sure what to think.

She flushed the toilet and was standing indecisively in the middle of the bathroom when someone started knocking. Grabbing the closest thing, a towel, she tried to wrap it around her waist and find her way to the apartment door at the same time. She tripped twice on the way but finally managed to open the door with one hand and hold the ends of the towel closed with the other. Blinking at the sudden bright light, she identified Bobby standing there in his black RangeMan uniform. He had a grimace on his face.

"Fuck," he said. "I was afraid of this. You're never late for shift. Have you got that virus, too?"

Steph opened her mouth but didn't know what to say and settled for "Wha?"

Bobby sighed. "What symptoms do you have? Headache? Dizzy?"

Well, she couldn't seem to figure out how long her arms and legs were – that seemed almost the same as being dizzy. And her head _was_ hurting. So she nodded.

"Do you have the shits?"

"Not so far," she managed to get out. It was beyond weird to hear Lester's voice, rough and scratchy from sleep. And, shit, maybe he was sick! Wouldn't that just be her luck?!

"Well, get in the shower and get dressed. I'll talk to Tank. We're shorthanded but maybe he'll switch you with Hal on monitors this morning. Think you can handle a monitor watch?"

Steph thought fast. She'd taken a few monitor watches when she'd worked at Rangeman full time a while back, and she was pretty sure she could handle that - even in Lester's body - unless anything else weird happened. Maybe she could figure out where her body was, and if Lester was in it. "I think so," she said.

Bobby nodded and turned away to go back down the hall. Steph shut the door and locked it, then leaned her forehead against the wood for a moment.

Should she tell anyone what was going on? Who would believe her? **She** didn't even believe it, and it was happening to her!

She dragged Lester's butt back to the bathroom and debated whether to shower or shave first. Well, considering the way she felt, shower first would probably be the safer bet – maybe it would wake her up and she'd find this was just a weird dream.

For several long minutes she just stood under the hot spray… Then she looked down with a snort. Really? _**That**_ was all it took to get a hard-on, a little warm water? Men were so easy. She found a black bottle on the shelf that claimed to be hair _and_ body wash and used it to scrub her – Lester's hair, finding that his headache made his head sore to the touch, too. She hoped he had some Advil somewhere. Proceeding down, she soaped his torso and – _eww - _hairy armpits.

She was tempted to skip the tent pole just on general principles, but if she was going to be stuck with it she wanted it to be clean. With an extra gob of body wash in hand she grabbed it and _oh my god_, is that what it felt like? Holy cow! Oh, yeah, no wonder guys did this… And it was so much easier with it right up here handy. No bending into a pretzel to touch the right… Ah, ah, oh crap!

Locking her knees, she barely managed not to fall.

Blushing furiously, she rinsed off her, um, Lester's body and made an effort to rinse the 'evidence' from the wall of the shower before climbing out and toweling off. Hmm, there were some benefits to having short hair – she just ran her fingers through it and it looked okay.

Lester would probably shave, but her stomach rolled and she decided to skip it. She'd probably cut him, anyway, and besides, he was sick. They wouldn't sweat it if he was only on monitors, right?

She rifled the dresser and closet for clothes. At least she didn't have to decide what to wear. She found some black boxer briefs and yanked them on, then spent several minutes trying to get Lester's dick to fit somewhere without pinching. Giving up, she pulled on black socks, a pair of black cargo pants, and a black Rangeman t-shirt. Phone? Keys? After searching the nightstand she gave herself a mental head-smack and looked in the jeans on the floor. Bingo. And the phone was still half-charged. She left the gun on the nightstand, shoved Lester's big feet into boots, then had bend over to tie the laces. Practically standing on her head that long made her dizzy and her stomach rolled again. Damn. Lester had better not give her this crap!

Walking in the boots was a trip, literally, as she headed for the kitchenette and searched for some kind of pain reliever. It felt like her head was going to come off. Nothing. Bathroom? Yeah – Advil in the medicine cabinet, along with an amazing assortment of condoms in all colors and flavors. Sheesh.

The phone in her pocket vibrated as she pulled the door closed on her way out and she grabbed at it, not wanting it to get the willy all stirred up again.

"Yeah," she croaked. Lester didn't sound too good.

It was Bobby. "You're on monitors today, buddy. I'll catch you later."

One hurdle down. What time was it, anyway? Oh good god, it was only six! And Lester was _late_?

She veered into the break room on the fifth floor, intending to get a cup of coffee before going to the monitors, but just the smell of it had her stomach roiling. Not good. Maybe nothing was better.

"Man, you look like shit," Brett said as she half-sat, half-dropped into the chair next to him. "Don't breathe on me. I don't want that damn bug."

For a moment she entertained the idea of leaning over and exhaling on him. But then she remembered she was Lester – and Brett might slug her.

What would Lester do?

"Fuck you," she mumbled.

She sat unmoving, watching monitors, for two solid hours. Amazingly, her ass didn't go to sleep. That surprised her some, because Les didn't have a lot of padding there. Tank came in and sat in for Brett while he took a half-hour break. He looked over at her but didn't comment until right before Brett was due back.

"You eat anything this morning?"

"No," Steph mumbled.

"Well, you probably ought to eat some crackers or something. Even from over here your stomach sounds bad."

A flash of red on the monitor for the fourth floor caught her eye, and she watched with morbid fascination as her body tore down the hall and pounded on Xander's door, vanishing inside a minute later. Well, that seemed to settle her question of where her body was. At least Tank was watching his own monitors and hadn't seen 'Stephanie' go into another man's apartment.

Suddenly it occurred to her that Lester woke up in bed with Ranger, and she let out a startled laugh – which turned into a coughing fit that had Tank all but crossing himself.

Brett returned just as she was getting her breathing back under control.

"Take an hour, Les. See if you can find some cold and flu medicine, and for god's sake eat something before you die on us." Tank told her.

Still winded, Stephanie settled for flipping them both off as she dragged herself to her feet and headed for the elevator.

It was a little after eight, and Lester – in her body – was on the fourth floor. Ranger had passed the monitors twenty minutes ago on his way into his office. Ella would be upstairs, probably cleaning the bathroom by now. She could run up, grab some cold medicine from the kitchen, then go lay down in Lester's bed until her hour was up.

The apartment door was ajar, and there was music coming from the bathroom. The familiar Spanish salsa was one of Ella's favorites.

The Nyquil gel-caps were in the kitchen and she pocketed two doses. She was headed back to the door when she nearly tripped over the laundry basket, piled high with the sheets from the bed. Right on top was one of Ranger's shirts.

Needing some comfort, she snatched up the shirt. Her lime green thong was underneath it, and just below it was a pillowcase. Picking it up, she sniffed it. Umm. Yeah, it was from Ranger's pillow.

Rolling the items into a small bundle she hightailed it back down to Lester's apartment. She fumbled the keys but finally managed to get the door open. Was it hot in here? Man, her stomach felt awful.

The boots had to go. The cargos hit the floor on the way to the kitchenette, where she dug a bottle of water out of the fridge and took one dose of the Nyquil. On second thought, Lester was a hell of a lot bigger than she was – she took the second dose, too. There was next to nothing in his kitchen to eat but she finally located some stale cereal and ate a couple handfuls just so there would be something in her stomach.

She stripped off the shirt and pulled Ranger's shirt over her head, having to tug on it to get it down because it actually fit. It was probably a sign of how bad she felt that she kept forgetting she was in Lester's body.

The pillowcase she put Lester's pillow after pulling off his case. The thong fell out when she picked it up. Hmm. Well, it was stretchy, and maybe it wouldn't pinch the dick as bad as the boxer briefs. How did guys walk with all that junk between their legs? She didn't even want to think about trying to walk with a hard-on.

The Nyquil was kicking in, and she collapsed on the bed with a sigh of relief as finally her head stopped throbbing. She curled around the pillow with Ranger's scent, pulled the sheet up over her nearly-bare ass, and sighed. She'd just rest here for a little bit…

~*~*~

She woke up on in bed seven to the sound of a ringing phone. Groaning, she rolled over to answer it.

"You okay, Babe?"

"I've been better," she said. She felt kind of groggy, and wondered about the strange dream she'd been having.

"Half of RangeMan is down with the flu. It might be a good idea if you just stayed up there for today, take it easy and stay away from the guys. You don't want to catch this bug."

"Okay."

"Call me if you need anything. I'll see you around five."

He hung up. She dropped the phone back in the cradle and rolled out of bed to go to the bathroom.

What in the heck did she have on? she wondered as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She stopped and took a closer look, pulling Ranger's dress socks out from beneath the underwire of her bra. Oo-kay… She dropped them on the vanity and closed herself in to use the toilet.

Her box of tampons was on the back of the toilet. Oh, damn… She dropped the boxers and felt for the string, tears gathering in her eyes. She'd hoped… But no, she definitely had her period. Well, it hadn't been that long; they could just keep trying.

The thought struck her as she was flushing the toilet that _**Lester**_ had had to deal with her period starting this morning. She laughed out loud. That was _almost_ enough to make the bizarre morning worthwhile.

Still chuckling, she exchanged the uncomfortable bra for one of Ranger's soft black t-shirts and climbed back into bed. She'd sleep now. She might need her energy later…

_~Finis!~_


End file.
